


A Year of Firsts

by Angelic_Disaster



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Dom Hannibal Lecter, Dry Humping, Established Relationship, Frottage, I need Hannibal to blow smoke at my face too please and thank you, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Smoke fetish, Smoking, degradation kink, in cuba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29572329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelic_Disaster/pseuds/Angelic_Disaster
Summary: Buying cigars in Cuba has been one of the best investments that Hannibal made in his life.Or: Will has a smoke fetish, Hannibal has gorgeous lips. Smut happens.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 167





	A Year of Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason I found out that I had the need to write about Hannibal buying rum for Will in Cuba. And I spent two hours researching about cuban rum and tobacco so you're gonna read it. Hopefully that scene won't be too tedious to read. BUT DON'T FRET MT FRIENDS, THERE IS FILTH IN THE HORIZON.
> 
> One more thing: SUPER DUPER SPECIAL THANKS TO *drumroll* FISHDUST! My wonderful guardian angel of the english language, beta and friend.

It has been a year of firsts for Hannibal Lecter.

Not a year of first near-death experiences, nor a year of first near-death experiences at the hands of Will Graham, thank you very much. But a year of the first (and _hopefully_ last) time diving head down into the ocean from a cliff, patching wounds in a veterinarian clinic, eating McDonalds in a filthy motel room and sleeping in a single bed with Will Graham when a second bed was just three feet away. It hadn't been that bad.

It has also been a year of first kisses and first physical and emotional intimacy. With Will Graham. In an honest, not entirely unhealthy way. Maybe a little bit unhealthy because it was them, but as healthy as the not-yet-married Murder Husbands could manage. Give them a fucking break, at least they’re trying. 

It has been a year of firsts; and now, under the Cuban sun, Hannibal decided that you only lived once (well, two or three times if you count the Murder Husbands' history, but who's counting?). And being Hannibal Lecter, indulging himself with the finest things in life was a must. Food, wine, Will Graham, music, and why not: Cuban tobacco. 

During his days as a surgeon he sometimes indulged in a cigarette lent by a coworker. After a surgery of 25 hours or more, and only a break of 8 minutes between patients, leaning against a wall outside of the hospital with a cigarette, no matter how terrible the tobacco, was a blessing. 

He never picked up the habit of smoking. He wasn't a smoker. Not even a social smoker. And especially not with the industrial tobacco of the U.S. But Havana presented a new opportunity in the market and he took it. 

He was a glutton for pleasure, after all. And he had always enjoyed putting his mouth to good use.

We are talking about eating the rude and speaking in metaphors, of course.

Originally, he entered the picturesque shop to buy a nice bottle of rum and found himself surrounded by the rich aroma of tobacco. A man in black bowtie and crisp white shirt received him with a smile.

"Buenas tardes, ¿en qué puedo ayudarlo, señor?"

"Buenas tardes." Hannibal answered, passing around the shop, examining the dark wood of the walls. "I would like to buy a bottle of rum, for a gift. Is there something that would you recommend?" 

"How special is the person and how much do they know about rum, señor?" Hannibal smiled, pleased at the man who chose to inquire, instead of only bringing the most expensive bottle he had at hand. 

"He is more of a whiskey man than rum," Hannibal began, "I'm trying to broaden his palate. So I would like something more than just good, hopefully it would convince him to try new things. And, to answer your question," Hannibal couldn't stop his chest from rising like a proud peacock the way it did every time he looked at the golden band around his finger. It was a marriage legal on passports, no church or questions needed. The vows were made on a cliff, and death didn't part them, "the most special person that exists." 

"I think I have what you need." The man said turning around to the shelves, coming back with two bottles, one in each hand. 

"Ron Santero, 11 years." The man positioned one bottle over the counter as he began explaining, "This rum is aged in oak casks. If your man likes whiskey this could be a great option because it borders on the world of the single malt Scotch. Light and airy like summer breeze. You won't even feel it."

Hannibal listened attentively. The man was earning an invitation to dinner and not on the plate.

"Or, if your man prefers something stronger, this bebé…” he said, holding up the other bottle, _'Havana Club 7 años'_ with a much darker color, "this is the way to go. _'Havana Club’_ is a classic of the classics, this one is a Selección de maestros. It has a pomegranate flavor as a sweet modifier, and a much higher alcohol content, 45 percent." He said and Hannibal's face lit up, an elegant brow arched in a surprised expression as he picked up the bottle for examination. "The high level of alcohol helps to cut through the sweetness, and it’s not only incredibly smooth but it has hints of tobacco, chocolate and pecans.”

"Marvelous,” Hannibal said, examining both bottles close as he deliberated. "They're both perfect. I want this one for me, and this one to be wrapped as a gift, if you’re amenable." He gave back both bottles, first the Havana Club, and then the Ron Santero for Will. 

"¡Of course señor, immediately! ¡Gracias!"

Hannibal tilted his head, "No please, gracias a usted."

"Is there something else I can help you with, señor?" Hannibal considered for a second, looking at the cigars under the glass. 

"Yes. Would you care to recommend some cigars for me?" 

"¡Será un placer!"   
  


[x]

Hannibal brought two glasses of the lighter Ron Santero in one hand, an ashtray and the bottle in the other, to the veranda. He deposited them on the small outdoor table, round and white, with matching chairs, as he sat down with Will. From inside the house it could be heard the faint melody of a violin in the record player. Around them were only the sounds of a summer night. 

The last time Hannibal had smoked was during his surgeon days at John Hopkins, and it was nothing compared to this. The smoke was thick in the air; the tobacco creamy and soft, a light aftertaste of coffee at the end. It suited the night: the serene aesthetic of it and of himself. He savoured it while stretching his neck, closing his eyes—

—and Will choked to death, spewing his rum.

"My most sincere apologies, Will." Hannibal spoke in a rush, waving the smoke away from his partner. "It didn't cross my mind in the slightest to ask you if it would bother you and it clearly does. Do forgive me for my rudeness, please." 

He tried to reach for the ashtray to put out the cigar but Will stopped him, grabbing Hannibal by the wrist. 

"You—it's fine. I mean, it's fine if you want to. It doesn't bother me," Will said, taking a moment to compose himself and cough, the sensation of rum burning his throat and nose. "I forgave you worse things Hannibal. It's just... When did you pick up smoking?"

"I haven't picked up smoking,” Hannibal said, leaving the ashtray alone, and looking slightly offended. "I was at the liquor store today and it piqued my curiosity." He eyed Will carefully. Hannibal didn't put out the cigar, but kept it at a considerable distance from Will. "If it is my health that you're worried about, you don’t need to. I merely wanted to try it as an indulgence.” And for emphasis, he took one long, gracious drag of the cigar. Will's eyes never left Hannibal's fingers…

"I just didn't picture yourself as someone who would be interested in tobacco," Will said quickly, moving his face away. Keeping his head and back straight, he hid his words behind the brim of the glass but his eyes kept wandering to Hannibal. "Not with that insufferable nose of yours," he teased, but his voice came faint and definitely more breathless than intended.

A hypothesis started to unravel inside of Hannibal's mind and he was _oh so eager_ to test it out. His eyes glowed with mirth as he took another drag and Will's lips parted in a silent sigh behind the glass. 

"It looks good,” Will said, and finished his glass in one long gulp. Still trying not to look at Hannibal, he fidgeted with the glass in his hand, his eyes fixated on it as if he could find a treasure at the bottom. "Looks good. On you. Smoking."

"Will." Hannibal spoke with a low, sensual purr that coaxed him to look in his direction. 

With great effort Will managed to lift his gaze, (and with the same effort Hannibal managed to keep his grin at bay), just to be face to face with Hannibal Lecter and a cigar hanging from his bottom lip. 

"Darling, do remind me to invite Javier, the kind man at the store, to have dinner with us next week. Did you like his rum recommendation, right?" Hannibal asked nonchalantly, moving his cigar from his left hand to the right, closer to Will. 

"Remind you to..."

"To invite Javier to have dinner. Will, are you not listening to me?” Hannibal delighted himself with the new choking sound that came from Will. _Oh_ how his darling boy loved to be treated roughly. 

Will opened his mouth and closed it again, seeming that he was having trouble keeping his thoughts in order.

"Yes. That. Got it." Will finally managed to say without truly getting anything at all, lost entirely looking at Hannibal’s lips wrapped around the cigar. 

Hannibal lifted his elegant brow, as Will (aware of it or not) moved his hand closer to the ashtray. What a beautiful creature. 

Hannibal took another long drag before lowering the cigar to the ashtray, and let it hang between his fingers. The burning ember brushed close to Will's skin, turning the milky flesh to a delicate pink. He didn't even flinch; Hannibal was so proud.

"Yes Will, _that._ Don't forget it. I want to thank him."

Will nodded with glazed eyes. Then, when the words finally registered, he closed his eyes, trying to navigate inside the fog in his mind.

"Thank who for what?"

"Will," Hannibal admonished, voice dropping low, with no real bite behind his words, much less when he saw how Will swallowed a thick lump in his throat and locked shiny blue eyes with maroon ones. "The rum, Will." 

Will held onto the empty glass in his hand as if it was his last lifeline. 

"The rum," he said, focusing on the glowing tip of the cigar as Hannibal took another drag. "Thank you." 

Will was so close to coming undone and Hannibal didn't have to even lift a finger. He was such a pretty little creature in these moments when he was so lost. 

"Will." Will's eyes flashed to Hannibal as if it was a command and Hannibal couldn't bite back the smirk as he leaned closer to his lover and, _oh so slowly,_ he blew the smoke directly onto Will's face. "You're welcome, darling." Will whined, deep in his throat, so needy. Hannibal knew Will hated sounding like that; he loved it.

"Hannibal please..."

"On your knees Will," he ordered, and Will rose instantly from his chair just to fall in front of him. His perfect mouth was shining and slightly open, with a moan trapped inside his throat. 

Hannibal watched him from above, much more composed, the picture of perfect elegance as he stirred in his chair, not bothering to uncross his legs.

"Ask for what you want Will.” He spoke clinically, with his infuriating psychiatrist voice that made Will squirm every time. 

"Kiss me." Will breathed out and all of Hannibal's carefully tailored persona melted away.

"Of course, my love,” he whispered, utterly enamoured with the man at his feet. Hannibal leaned forward, an affectionate smile spreading across his cheeks, cigar resting in one hand and the other cupping Will's chin.

"No. Not like that," Will said and Hannibal stopped midway, tilting his head in that curious way of his. Then, Will looked at Hannibal's hand holding the cigar, trying to explain over the embarrassment crepting in his gut, "Kiss me with... that." Hannibal's eyes sparkled, a new vivid fire behind them. As an afterthought, Will added, _"please."_

And how just one word did so many things to him. 

"Whatever you wish, my love, it is yours." He said taking a long drag before leaving the cigar on the ashtray, leaning down and holding Will's face between his hands, kissing him deeply and breathing the smoke into his mouth. 

Will keened, the moan swallowed by Hannibal, kissing him slowly and languidly. Smoke came out from Will's glistening lips as they broke apart. 

"Thank you," Will whispered with eyes closed, barely holding together, trembling and dizzy.

"How precious you are like this Will, utterly needy, coming undone. Acting like the wanton little whore that you are." Will whimpered, trying to hide his face behind the curtain of curls and burying his face on Hannibal's leg. 

"No, no darling," he admonished, clicking his tongue and tugging Will by the hair, pulling him away, "you're not going to do such a thing as to hide yourself." He said as Will whimpered again, trying to bite his lips and holding the noises inside his mouth, "don't be shy now _mylimasis_ , you were doing so well,” he muttered, brushing away the curls falling on Will's face. "Tell me Will, what do you want?" Hannibal laid back on his chair taking the cigar between his fingers, and Will recognized a command when he heard it. 

"Will. Speak," Hannibal instructed as though he was not already doing everything in his power to make talking quite impossible for Will.

"I want you to fuck me." 

Hannibal hummed in acknowledgment, not bothered in the slightest by Will’s lack of flourished language or his utter rudeness. He took another long drag from the cigar and still held Will by the hair with the other hand. The red glow of the ember at the tip of the cigar in the night made him look so much more handsome and deadly.

"I know, my love." Hannibal smiled, tapping the ash into the ashtray and ignoring Will. "I know you need my cock inside you, pounding at you until there is not a single thought inside that precious mind of yours, fucking you until you sob and beg,” he said, pulling Will again by the hair, his feet in shining Oxfords brushing against Will's groin and his hard cock, making the younger man suppress another moan. "And I promise, my love, I will give it to you." He purred then, and after another drag he slowly blew the smoke in Will's face as he added: "But first, I want to see you make a mess of yourself." 

Will groaned, torn between pleasure and shame, as he rocked his hips against Hannibal’s foot and leg seeking for more friction. 

"That's it Will, go ahead. Be as selfish as you want."

"Is it really selfish if you're enjoying yourself this much?" Will tried to hold back, but the intense blush on his face wasn't helping him.

Hannibal ignored him, taking another drag of his cigar, close to the end, and blew the smoke _away_ from his lover's face. Will rocked his hips faster, making a petulant wounded noise, as if it was his right to have the smoke blown at him.

 _"Hannibal."_ He growled at him, showing his teeth. Hannibal moved his foot again, looking at his lover from above.

"Be a good boy Will, and I'll give you what you want." He said with a detached expression, as if looking at Will was disgusting. Not that Hannibal's eyes (and cock) agreed with that. Not that Hannibal thought it truly; his lover, wanton and needy as he was, was a sight to behold. But who was he to deny Will when he squirmed under his glaze and held on tightly, reduced to his most animal needs, rocking into the leg presented to him. 

"That's it Will, show me how desperate you are." He patted Will on the head like a good dog, his fierce boy, as Will moaned more openly. He was no less enraged, but still growing more unashamed with every passing second.

"You're such a pretty slut Will, eager to be used." He took another drag and this time Will groaned in pleasure as he felt the smoke caressing his face, "look at the mess you're making," Hannibal pointed out with the cigar towards Will's groin and the increasing wet spot in his slacks. "Don't you feel an ounce of shame Will? Look at how much you're leaking, I can smell your arousal even over the tobacco." 

"Hannibal please, I—" Will moaned, rocking his hips faster, pressing his cock harder against Hannibal's leg.

"Absolutely disgusting Will, look at how desperate you are. I'm sure I could put out my cigar on you and you would let me."

Will trembled as he came, a moan coming deep from his core as he bowed his head, nuzzling at his lover's groin. Hannibal’s cock, thick and hard, cried out for attention, but he was perfectly content to watch the divine image of Will’s orgasm presented before him.

Will keened again, his body trembling with aftershocks as Hannibal moved his foot, stroking softly the twitching cock and smearing the come inside his pants. 

"You're a sight to behold Will." Hannibal said as he placed his consumed cigar in the ashtray, gaining another wounded noise from the devilish creature still at his knees. 

"Shhh darling, next time." Hannibal shushed him, coercing Will to sit on his lap, cupping that gorgeous ass and dragging Will over his own neglected cock.

"Bed," Will groaned. "Now."

"What a fantastic idea," Hannibal answered, biting the tender flesh of Will's throat.


End file.
